"That was Pius Poirier," said Agapit, delightedly and ungenerously.
"I shall not tell you. I did wrong to mention him," said Bidiane, calmly.
"He is a diligent student; he will get on in the world," said Agapit, more thoughtfully.
"But without me,--I shall never marry."
"I know a man who loves you," said Agapit, cautiously.
"Do you?--well, don"t tell me. Tell him, if you have his confidence, that he is a goose for his pains," and Bidiane reclined against her hammock cushions in supreme indifference.
"But he is very fond of you," said Agapit, with exquisite gentleness, "and very unhappy to think that you do not care for him."
Bidiane held her breath and favored him with a sharp glance. Then she sat up very straight. "What makes you so pale?"
"I am sympathizing with that poor man."
"But you are trembling, too."
"Am I?" and with the pretence of a laugh he turned away.
"_Mon cousin_," she said, sweetly, "tell that poor man that I am hoping soon to leave Sleeping Water, and to go out in the world again."
"No, no, Bidiane, you must not," he said, turning restlessly on his heel, and coming back to her.
"Yes, I am. I have become very unhappy here. Every one is against me, and I am losing my health. When I came, I was intoxicated with life. I could run for hours. I was never tired. It was a delight to live. Now I feel weary, and like a consumptive. I think I shall die young. My parents did, you know."
"Yes; they were both drowned. You will pardon me, if I say that I think you have a const.i.tution of iron."
"You are quite mistaken," she said, with dignity. "Time will show that I am right. Unless I leave Sleeping Water at once, I feel that I shall go into a decline."
"May I ask whether you think it a good plan to leave a place immediately upon matters going wrong with one living in it?"
"It would be for me," she said, decidedly.
"Then, mademoiselle, you will never find rest for the sole of your foot."
"I am tired of Sleeping Water," she said, excitedly quitting the hammock, and looking as if she were about to leave him. "I wish to get out in the world to do something. This life is unendurable."
"Bidiane,--dear Bidiane,--you will not leave us?"
"Yes, I will," she said, decidedly; "you are not willing for me to have my own way in one single thing. You are not in the least like Mr.
Nimmo," and holding her head well in the air, she walked towards the house.
"Not like Mr. Nimmo," said Agapit, with a darkening brow. "Dear little fool, one would think you had never felt that iron hand in the velvet glove. Because I am more rash and loud-spoken, you misjudge me. You are so young, so foolish, so adorable, so surprised, so intoxicated with what I have said, that you are beside yourself. I am not discouraged, oh, no," and, with a sudden hopeful smile overspreading his face, he was about to spring into his buggy and drive away, when Bidiane came sauntering back to him.
"I am forgetting the duties of hospitality," she said, stiffly. "Will you not come into the house and have something to eat or drink after your long drive?"
"Bidiane," he said, in a low, eager voice, "I am not a harsh man."
"Yes, you are," she said, with a catching of her breath. "You are against me, and the whole Bay will laugh at me,--and I thought you would be pleased."
"Bidiane," he muttered, casting a desperate glance about him, "I am frantic--oh, for permission to dry those tears! If I could only reveal my heart to you, but you are such a child, you would not understand."
"Will you do as I wish you to?" she asked, obstinately.
"Yes, yes, anything, my darling one."
"Then you will take Mr. Greening"s place?"
"Oh, the baby,--you do not comprehend this question. I have talked to no one,--I know nothing,--I am not one to put myself forward."
"If you are requested or elected to-night,--or whatever they call it,--will you go up to Halifax to "make the laws," as my aunt says?"
inquired Bidiane, smiling slightly, and revealing to him just the tips of her glittering teeth.
"Yes, yes,--anything to please you."
She was again about to leave him, but he detained her. "I, also, have a condition to make in this campaign of bribery. If I am nominated, and run an election, what then,--where is my reward?"
She hesitated, and he hastened to dissipate the cloud overspreading her face. "Never mind, I bind myself with chains, but I leave you free. Go, little one, I will not detain you,--I exact nothing."
"Thank you," she said, soberly, and, instead of hurrying away, she stood still and watched him leaving the yard.
Just before he reached Weymouth, he put his hand in his pocket to take out his handkerchief. To his surprise there came fluttering out with it a number of bills. He gathered them together, counted them, found that he had just forty-five dollars, and smiling and muttering, "The little sharp-eyes,--I did not think that she took in my transaction with Father Duvair," he went contentedly on his way.
CHAPTER XI.
WHAT ELECTION DAY BROUGHT FORTH.
"Oh, my companions, now should we carouse, now we should strike the ground with a free foot, now is the time to deck the temples of the G.o.ds."
ODE 37. HORACE.
It was election time all through the province of Nova Scotia, and great excitement prevailed, for the Bluenoses are nothing if not keen politicians.
In the French part of the county of Digby there was an unusual amount of interest taken in the election, and considerable amus.e.m.e.nt prevailed with regard to it.
Mr. Greening had been spirited away. His unwise and untrue remark about the inhabitants of the township Clare had so persistently followed him, and his anger with the three women at the Sleeping Water Inn had at last been so stubbornly and so deeply resented by the Acadiens, who are slow to arouse but difficult to quiet when once aroused, that he had been called upon to make a public apology.
This he had refused to do, and the discomfited Liberals had at once relegated him to private life. His prospective political career was ruined. Thenceforward he would lead the life of an unostentatious citizen. He had been chased and whipped out of public affairs, as many another man has been, by an unwise sentence that had risen up against him in his day of judgment.
The surprised Liberals had not far to go to seek his successor. The whole French population had been stirred by the cry of an Acadien for the Acadiens; and Agapit LeNoir, _nolens volens_, but in truth quite _volens_, had been called to become the Liberal nominee. There was absolutely nothing to be said against him. He was a young man,--not too young,--he was of good habits; he was well educated, well bred, and he possessed the respect not only of the population along the Bay, but of many of the English residents of the other parts of the county, who had heard of the diligent young Acadien lawyer of Weymouth.
The wise heads of the Liberal party, in welcoming this new representative to their ranks, had not the slightest doubt of his success.